Novels

My life took a weird turn when I married Ethan Carter. Let's just say, he wasn't thrilled about it. So thrilled, in fact, that he ditched our wedding reception to go race cars. The honeymoon phase? More like a hurricane of his ridiculous antics. I became the laughingstock of our social circle, and Ethan, ever the charmer, would just smirk and say, "You asked for this, babe. Deal with it." Everyone, including him, thought I was stuck with him forever. Then came our fifth anniversary. I gave him divorce papers and a genuine smile. "Finally getting rid of you," I

I impulsively married a college professor. Mark, 29, PhD, the whole package. Good-looking, stable job, and best of all, no in-laws. My mom said snagging a guy like him was winning the lottery. Blinded by his charm and a whirlwind romance, we tied the knot after two weeks of dating. Two weeks into married life, I was having second thoughts. He was distant, and we had absolutely nothing in common. He was an early bird, in bed by ten and up with the sun. I was a night owl, barely functioning before noon. On our wedding night, I had my period,

\"I won't say much more. Hurry up and add me back on SnapChat.\n\"I'm about to go abroad with some friends for a couple days, so I might not be reachable by phone. Don't worry and cry.\"

The day I found out I had terminal cancer, I dreamt I was the tragically deceased first love in a melodramatic novel. My childhood sweetheart, Ethan, was chattering away, "Hey, Luna, wanna grab some hot wings?" I chuckled softly, "Let's try something different. How about pizza?" The female protagonist in my dream couldn't handle spicy food, but to be more like me, after Ethan became her sugar daddy, she ate spicy food every single day. It eventually wrecked her stomach. Since I wasn't going to live much longer, I didn't want anyone else to suffer because of me. 1. The steamy pizza joint was practically

Three months after we broke up, my ex, Ethan, called. "The bar's closing, Nancy. Why aren't you here to take me home?" My eyes instantly welled up. I swallowed, my voice a shaky whisper, "Where are you?" A burst of laughter erupted from the phone. He gasped between chuckles, "You're so gullible! I'm playing Truth or Dare!" Tears spilled over. "You can call me anything, Garrett. Just come home with me." The other end went silent. "Who the hell is Garrett?" 1. Three months after the breakup, my obsession resurfaced. The recurring dream, the one I hadn't had in a while, came back to haunt me. In it,

A brutal crime happened in my jurisdiction. A six-year-old girl, we'll call her Emily, was abducted and tortured by some kids she knew. The scene was horrific. What’s worse, she was conscious through it all and somehow survived. The perpetrators were all under fourteen, the oldest barely a teenager, the youngest only nine. Juvenile court, no real consequences. Their parents were ordered to pay restitution, but the moment everything was official, they vanished – two families to the next county, two more out of state. Everyone seemed to walk away unscathed, except Emily, of course. But the damage, it was

My phone buzzed with a notification. Someone had answered my question on Quora: "How powerful is the impact of a 'first love'?" My fiancé, Mark, had responded. "Powerful enough that I proposed to her sister, so I could be close to her, as family." I’m that sister. And honestly? I wasn't as devastated as you might think. Because the top-rated answer to that question? That was mine. And I had a secret too. 1. The doorbell rang. Mark, drunk as a skunk, stood swaying on my porch. Last week, he’d proposed. I’d said yes. Now, his eyes were red-rimmed, reeking of booze. He

I'd been chasing after him for five years, with no luck. Then, five years later, there he was, amidst a throng of long-legged hotties at a karaoke bar. A little tipsy, I grabbed his hand, the alcohol giving me a dose of liquid courage. "Ethan, kiss me. Please?" He obliged. But... as he held me and kissed me, there was a look of pity in his eyes that I couldn't decipher. After graduation, I became a low-key rich girl. No sugar daddies, no lottery wins, no sudden windfalls. Just one sunny afternoon, my dad, with a straight face, told me, "You're actually a

I chased Ethan across the country for Olivia, my best friend. He didn't even look back. A year later, I got married. Ethan flew back the moment he heard. Seeing my wedding ring, the usually arrogant Ethan completely lost it. He forced a smile, his voice trembling, "Avery, are you going to take that off yourself, or do I have to do it for you? I'll buy you any ring you want, just get rid of that one. Please." It was a small wedding, just a dozen close friends and family. My husband, David, doted on me, taking care of everything so